The Circle
by CountessMel
Summary: [complete] All things come around in a circle. Things that happen once often happen again, but end differently. Ginny knows these things...


DISCLAIMER: I do not have any rights over the Harry Potter characters, places or plots.

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The fire was ebbing, throwing long flickers on the carpet. All of the students had gone upstairs hours before, talking about their holiday and what they had been given for Christmas. A stray book was lying on the sofa, open to a page about green-backed frelders and their adaptability to changing gravitation. Ginny lay across one of the deep plush chairs by the fireplace, her head resting on a book and the hastily-made notes from the morning's classes. She had fallen asleep not long after the last fifth year had left his O.W.L. studying to get some rest.

A log broke in the fire and the flames swept upwards. Ginny shifted slightly, causing the book under her head to begin slipping down the side of the chair's arm. Disturbed, she tried to push it back up into a comfortable position, only to have it slide down again. After a few more unsuccessful attempts at a secure position, she pushed the papers to the floor and, sighing, wriggled for a more comfortable arrangement.

A discreet rustle made her eyes flutter open.

The boy sitting in the plush armchair across from her looked completely at ease. He cocked a wan smile at her and glanced quickly at the several quills littering the carpet around her.

"Hello, Ginny."

Her lips parted slightly and she swallowed.

"Hullo."

"Studying late?"

The question was jarringly typical and Ginny's hands felt cold.

He stood up and idly walked over to the fireplace, studying the painting hanging above it. She knew he was giving her time to react, and she purposefully pulled herself more upright. Quickly, she moved her hand to her wand, but stopped as she saw his arm move in perfect sync to her own. She instead moved her hand upward to brush her hair behind her ear.

"I'm rather surprised to see you, Tom."

It had been years. She realized with a little jolt that while she had changed innumerably, he was the same boy she had known in first year.

He laughed.

"I expected as much."

He turned around abruptly.

"I know that you've missed me."

His gaze made her eyes flicker away to the fire before answering,

"Not really."

He laughed again and she suddenly felt slightly irritated.

"No," she said, "it's true. It's been ages easier since you've been gone."

He stopped laughing and leaned against the wall.

"Has it really?"

She could only answer,

"I think so."

And suddenly she felt tired and weak and she knew it was because she was frightened, so terribly frightened.

His eyes made her hands trembled and she tried to clasp them together unobtrusively, causing him to laugh again.

"You're still afraid, Ginny? After, what, five years?" His nonchalant smile made her colder.

"But then, you never were afraid of anything at all, were you?" he said, walking over to her chair and putting his hand on its arm, staring intently at her.

Her hands trembled as he leaned closer still. She could not meet his sharp gaze and she drew a shuddering breath, wanting him to be a nightmare.

"Except of me."

She raised her eyes.

"I'm not afraid, Tom," she whispered.

She saw him narrow his eyes and she shuddered. But he gave her a sad half-smile and leaned over.

"I know."

He kissed her silently. Inside her chest, she could feel a pain that almost made her cry out.

But she sat in the chair, unable to move as he kissed her, not harder but with an intensity that scared her.

It was strange. She could feel the energy draining from her body, and yet she hadn't any control to stop. And she began to realize why he was here.

As she became weaker, her head fell back onto the chair. He continued to kiss her, unpasionately and coldly.

"Tom," she pleaded, "please stop."

But he continued to kiss her and her head began to swim and she closed her eyes.

She knew his purpose. And she realized it had nothing to do with her at all.

As her mind narrowed, she remembered feeling the same way in her first year, before being freed from the possession of Tom's memory.

It had come to a circle. He was taking her life once more.

"Please, Tom. Don't do it again" she murmured, before her breath became too shallow to whisper.

As he drained the life from her, his hands felt more solid on her neck and she slipped down into dimness.

When he moved away, she lay still and unbreathing. He stared at her for a moment and muttered "Thank you," before silently disappearing, leaving her alone.


End file.
